


Captivated

by xaestheticsx



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pining, this is just pure fluff honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaestheticsx/pseuds/xaestheticsx
Summary: There’s that look of curiosity on his face again, eyebrows drawn together but gaze soft and sweet. It always makes Tony smile, matching the gentle glow that radiates from Clay like the damn sun. He doesn’t quite understand how Clay manages to do that so effortlessly, but he does, making Tony’s heart beat just a little harder, a little longer.





	Captivated

“What’s your tattoo mean?”

 

Tony’s eyes break away from the TV screen, finding Clay staring intently at his left forearm. There’s that look of curiosity on his face again, eyebrows drawn together but gaze soft and sweet. It always makes Tony smile, matching the gentle glow that radiates from Clay like the damn sun. He doesn’t quite understand how Clay manages to do that so effortlessly, but he does, making Tony’s heart beat just a little harder, a little longer. He can’t even begin to find words to describe it. And maybe there aren’t meant to be any words at all, he doesn’t know. He just knows that he’s happy. Genuinely, undeniably happy for the first time in a long time.

 

“It says ‘always struggle for inner peace’, in Hindi,” Tony replies, voice not much louder than the soft chatter on the TV, “It’s not very old, only a few months.”

 

Clay’s quiet for a moment and Tony’s not sure what’s on his mind, no matter how much he wishes he knew. It must be something, anything, with the way his eyes are still lingering on the tattoo, only blinking in response.

 

“That’s really beautiful,” Clay finally murmurs, tone earnest, “How many do you have?”

 

His eyes glance up briefly when he asks, and Tony can see a flicker of amusement in the light blue hue, gone as quick as it came when he looks back down. He wonders if Clay could tell how he felt right now, if he could read him any better than he can. It’s that mystery that keeps Tony on his toes, what tugs at the strings of his heart until it feels like it could rip in two. And he thinks that he would be okay with that, if it were Clay tugging on those strings.

 

“Seven,” Tony answers, without skipping a beat, and he can see Clay raise his eyebrows in what looks like surprise, maybe even curiosity. So he doesn’t wait for him to respond, turning over his other arm and reaching out for Clay to see. It’s an x variable over an infinity sign, pure black ink like the other one.

 

“This one means limitless. It’s like a reminder, that there are possibilities out there I don’t know about yet.”

 

He can feel his face start to heat up as soon as the words slip past his lips, like a pile of books crashing to the floor in a loud, heavy heap. It sounds stupid when he says it aloud, and he almost wishes he could take it back. But Clay nods like he understands. Holding so much interest in that simple expression etched across his features. It’s Clay, wholeheartedly and real, somehow encouraging Tony to go on without having to say a single world.

 

“I’ve got one of a wolf, right here,” Tony continues, rolling up his sleeve to the third tattoo, this time on his bicep.

 

And Clay watches every little move attentively, eyes meeting his when he tells him about when he got it, how much it hurt. Like he’s listening to a story that no one else has heard before. And maybe he is because Tony can’t recall a time that he’s talked this deeply about them before. Or a time when someone has even cared enough to ask.

 

It makes him hesitant, for a moment, as he looks down at the next tattoo. Cursive lettering on his inner bicep. It makes him wonder why he’s turned into an open book all of a sudden.

 

“This one says ‘warrior’.”

 

“Yeah?” Clay replies, that one small word urging him to go on, “What’s that one mean?”

 

Tony shifts in his spot, unsure of himself. But Clay gives him another nod, eyes gentle and kind.

 

“It . . . it reminds me to stay true to myself and to keep fighting. Any way I can, no matter how hard shit can get.”

 

It’s never been easy, just so fucking hard since losing Hannah and Jeff. But maybe things are starting to get better, he thinks, because he’s still here, and so is Clay. That has to mean something, right? Maybe they can finally heal.

 

The movie they were watching is long over by now, but neither of them can be bothered, Clay all too lost in the stories that Tony has kept to himself. They’ve ended up closer to each other, and Tony’s not sure when either of them had moved, but he can feel their knees brushing together every so often. It may not be intentional, and it may not even mean anything, but he can’t help but notice the comfort in it.

 

“I’m sure you’ve seen these before, the stars behind my ear,” Tony murmurs, room silent besides the flurry of rain pattering against the window.

 

He turns his head to the side, jaw tilting up ever so slightly.

 

“And I’ve got an orchid vine, too, on my other arm.”

 

His shirt’s loose enough to where he can tug the collar down, just enough, showing that the flowers continue to trail up his shoulder and wrap around his chest.

 

“Is it okay if I feel them?” Clay asks, mind unfocused.

 

His cheeks are dusted a light pink moments after, quickly realizing what he had said.

 

“ _Wow_ , that sounded really fucking weird.”

 

And Tony laughs at that, bright and warm, thinking he definitely wouldn’t want to be spending his Friday night with anyone but Clay. It’s always been Clay.

 

“Sure,” Tony says instead, giving him a wink, “I won’t tell.”

 

Clay huffs, clearly unamused at his attempt to lighten things up. But it must have worked, because he reaches out anyway, when the room turns quiet again, letting his fingertips gently glide across his tattooed skin.

 

“It’s soft,” Clay mumbles, face scrunched up in confusion.

 

Tony’s not sure what Clay was expecting, really, but he amuses him anyway, “Yeah, it did heal up pretty nicely.”

 

It’s only a few moments later when Clay lets the palm of his hand come to a rest, slowly lying over the pink petals of the flower. Neither of them move, but Tony notices Clay’s eyes lighting up a little.

 

“I think I can feel your heartbeat.”

 

His voice is faint, Tony almost questioning whether he even said it at all. But he must have, with the way he presses his hand down a little harder, small smile gracing his lips. And it’s captivating, really, with the way Clay’s looking at him now, as if he’s a living, breathing work of art. It could just be the tattoos, he thinks dejectedly. But he’s got this hope, deep down inside, that it isn’t just the tattoos.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just a small bit that I wrote since I can't get enough of these lil lovesick puppies. And I know it kind of just starts out of nowhere, but I really wanted to capture their conversation and put a spotlight on how meaningful it was to their relationship. Y'know? So I hope that didn't make it confusing. But most importantly, I hope you guys liked it <3.


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